


The Rogue Trader or Ausar's First Lesson

by Lightbringer34



Series: The Sons of the Harvest: A Warhammer 40k story [2]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25660123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightbringer34/pseuds/Lightbringer34
Summary: The Pirate Lord Ausar sets an example for his soldiers in his early days and outlines the intricacies of Khornate violence
Series: The Sons of the Harvest: A Warhammer 40k story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836928
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Rogue Trader or Ausar's First Lesson

The spaceship the Sons of the Harvest had patched together was an impressive one by any standards. True, it didn’t have the largest guns, or the most elegant shape, but the Ill Wind was a work of love by the Pirate Lords and their crew. It had started out as a filthy, lumpy, and dangerous space hulk infested with Genestealers, hive-like xenos with claws that could tear through ceramite armor. It took the Sons five years to scour the ship from stem to stern, blasting away at the xenos and then scourging the gore and filth out of the corridors.

The human veterans of the Scouring, as it came to be known in the warband, had become experts in close-quarters and boarding combat. Ausar named them the First Company, because he was still a stickler for proper military names, but everyone else called them the Survivors. The Survivors took great pride in their accomplishments, and every new member of the company was given a shoulderpad made of a Genestealer’s head, to signify their readiness for combat.

But despite this accomplishment, the Sons merely consisted of a three hundred Chaos Marines and two hundred cultists, of which half were the Survivors. Far from discouraged, Ausar called for engines and a crew. Thus, the Sons embarked on a wide series of raids and punitive strikes that soon became famous across the northeastern arm of the galactic spiral. They kidnapped or bribed tech-priests to join them, co-opted Guard regiments to serve as onboard security and ransacked an entire banking world to use as collateral.

It was on this banking world, Septim IV, that Ausar and Krosis first met. Ausar, for his part, was simply seeking anything of value that might be used to continue building his forces or enrich his chambers. Krosis, on the other hand, had been hiding there for some time, attempting to steal an ancient artifact owned by one of the world’s nobles. Their meeting is recorded upon one of the stained glass windows of the Ill Wind’s chapel, with Krosis and his wall of blue and gold Rubricae, shaking Ausar’s red-clad hand while the city burns behind them.

While it might seem strange for a sorcerer and a pirate to combine their forces, this agreement, soon to become a permanent arrangement, reflects the overwhelming practicality of the two leaders. Ausar was a strategist, a leader of men and marines, but he was not a spectacular organizer. Krosis excelled in planning and was easily able to organize the Ill Will and its members to the point that even the Alexander the Great would’ve been impressed. The two commanders also hit it off surprisingly well, to the unseen bellows of displeasure from their patron gods. The next raid the Sons launched was to be one of their most prosperous ones yet, and would inspire a vigorous manhunt by the Imperial Guard and the Inquisition. As per Krosis’s suggestion, the Sons would raid, wreck, and sack a Rogue Trader.

The Rogue Trader in question, Hugo Calipheros the 17th, had been operating for three centuries, and his House had been active for at least four times that long, so the Sons were almost certainly due a massive windfall. The prospect of such gargantuan wealth drove the Sons to heights of enthusiasm as they careened through the Warp towards their prey. The Ill Wind fell upon the Rogue Trader’s ship like a shark upon a school of anchovies, striking deep with its first volley. Though technically outgunned, Ausar had trained his crew well, and the few macrocannon batteries struck home, crippling the engines and blowing the starboard cargo hold open to space. The Sons swarmed onto the ship with blood on their blades and riches in their eyes, slaughtering all sent forth against them.

Ausar grinned as he stepped onto the bridge of the Rogue Trader’s vessel, staring the Trader himself in the face. The man was decked out in all sorts of military finery, likely a relic from past ancestors, as his paunch and pallid face portrayed a disappointing lack of martial skill despite the chainsword at his side. Calipheros’s remaining men gathered behind him, eyes tight with rage. They knew escape was impossible, but they weren’t going to hand over their ship to Chaos bandits without paying a heavy toll in blood. Ausar allowed his enhanced eyesight to drift over the scene and noted with surprise two women and their babes crouched behind the remaining crew. Their eyes were fearful and they clutched the infants to their chests in fear. As his own guard crowded into the room behind him, Ausar waved them back.

“Hold my Sons. Let us see if these dogs of the Emperor have any honor left.”

The Pirate Lord spun his own chainaxe in a traditional salute towards Calipheros and his retinue. Surprisingly, the Trader swallowed and stepped forward, readying his own weapon. His voice was quavering. “Terms?”

Ausar nodded. “If you win, you and ten others gain free passage to the escape pods and your ship is mine. If I win, you die and your ship is mine anyway.”

Calipheros gave a shaky grin. “I’m guessing you’re not up to haggling then.”

Beneath his helmet, Ausar chuckled, a deep booming laugh that echoed around the bridge and was echoed back by some of the more sycophantic of his group. “Such nerve. It’ll almost be a pity to kill you, Trader.”

“Almost.”

And with that, the combat began. An overhand blow from Ausar, flicked to the side by his opponent. The Rogue Trader knew he would not win a contest of strength, so he had clearly decided to attempt to create an opening to strike. His chainsword came charging up in a diagonal thrust, aimed at a vulnerable armpit. The Pirate lord was able to bring his axe around to block in time, and grunted with the unexpected force behind the blow. The combatants disengaged almost simultaneously and reassessed their opponent. A few of the Sons nudged each other. This was entertaining after all!

Ausar pointed with his chainaxe. “You’ve been enhanced, haven’t you, human? Fat or no, I recognize blade-skill when I see it.”

Calipheros nodded. “A gift from an old Magos Biologis I once helped.”

“Then let’s make sure it doesn’t go to waste!”

They clashed twice more, with feint, and counter feint, parry and stroke, until the duel ended the only way it could. Ausar bellowed in triumph as his axe roared its way through Calipheros’s sternum, shedding bone and organs as it went. The bridge was silent until the body hit the floor, whereupon it exploded into a wave of raw noise. Cheers and shouts of triumph from the Sons, and cries of despair from the remaining crew. Ausar’s marines and cultists surged towards the civilians like a vast human tide of malevolence, only to be violently and brutally halted by Ausar’s chainaxe as their leader barred their path.

“HALT SONS OF THE HARVEST!” he bellowed, “HALT, OR FACE EXTINCTION!”

One marine was unwilling, or unable to stop in time, his gauntleted hands inches from the neck of the nearest Imperial soldier. Ausar’s chainaxe sang again and the marine flopped to the deck in pieces. There was a brief confused fumble as the pirate forces backed up as far as they could and the Imperial defenders readied their weapons, fingers straining on the triggers. The massive red-clad figure of the Red King, the Pirate Lord, bizarrely, had his back to them and appeared to be haranguing his subordinates. One brave guardsman eased a frag grenade out of his satchel.

“You skakking warp-spawned IDIOTS! Are you warriors or Ork-spawn? Nobody slaughters the crew until I SAY you can! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?”

A chorus of murmurs and uncertain nods answered Ausar. The smarter members of his retinue frowned in puzzlement. Where was he going with this? The guardsman inched closer, intent on taking out the pirate lord in a blaze of suicidal glory. A massive gauntleted hand reached back and grabbed him, dragging the would-be martyr into the air.

“If some skak-head tries to kill you, take his skull!” There was an accompanying squelching noise as the Guardsman’s head separated from the rest of him. “If a soldier runs, shoot them in the back, for they are pathetic cowards. Their skulls are unfit for the throne of Khorne!” The warband cheered and raised their weapons in the air. Now THIS was a speech they understood. But Ausar wasn’t finished. He pointed his chainaxe back into the crown, and the unfortunate women in the center of the group found themselves face-to-gore with the gruesome weapon. “But if you find the weak, the infirm, or the young, Sons of the Harvest, LEAVE THEM BE! Let the death of their protectors inspire them to become strong, leave them as a reminder for the Imperial dogs, leave them alive, above all. Do not tarnish your weapons with the skulls of the weak! Save your strength so that you may reap worthier foes!”

Before the terrified eyes of the defenders, Ausar thrust his chainaxe into the air, embedding it into the deck plating above him. “Remember this lesson my Sons, and you will one day be worthy of Khorne’s favor!” The pirates cheered and surged around their Lord and this time, he made no move to stop them. The remaining Guardsmen and Imperials had no time before their enemies were upon them and they died quickly. All save the few huddled families, whom the pirates flowed around like water and rock. The pirates began to drift around, some examining the controls, others stripping the gold and valuable items from the surrounding or the dead.

Ausar nodded in satisfaction and sheathed his chainaxe at his waist once more. They’d learned their lesson, it seemed. He walked over and bent down to look the survivors in the eye. If they were terrified before, they’d gone beyond terror now. Most of them simply stared at him blankly, facial muscles twitching as their emotions roared through them. Terror, righteous rage, hatred, all played across their faces. They would tell their sons of his presence, tell their rescuers, they would tell everyone they could in the hopes that this monster would be killed as he had killed their husbands and wives in turn. The Pirate Lord nodded appreciatively. Yes, this would be a good beginning for the Sons of the Harvest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Another stand-alone piece, I always liked the older warhammer idea that the Chaos Gods have positive aspects as well, just drowned out by the bad. The idea of honorable Khornate warriors is sadly long gone in favor of "Maim Kill Burn" as the sum total. Personally, I prefer a little more nuance in my mindless violence and character building.


End file.
